


Of Coffee and Four Inch Heels

by PlayingChello



Series: Secret Santa Gifts [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Theater kid!Marco, background reibert, lots of fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingChello/pseuds/PlayingChello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean is a first year Engineering student at Trost U, which is all well and good. Except for his repeatedly being kicked out of the room so his roommate can have sex. At least there's a coffee shop he can go to, but there's this guy who is <i>always</i> there at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Coffee and Four Inch Heels

**Author's Note:**

> Secret Santa exchange gift for the lovely [Riablist](http://riablist.tumblr.com). The prompt was college AU with side Reibert and cuteness. I hope you like it!
> 
> EDIT: So [Fujoshichan69](http://fujoshichan69.tumblr.com) was basically the coolest person ever and COMMISSIONED [Inkykinky](http://inky--thoughts.tumblr.com) to do [THIS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL MASTERPIECE](http://playingchello.tumblr.com/post/108649449400/fujoshichan69-i-read-this-fic-and-i-couldnt) for this fic. So please look at this and like and reblog and everything because it deserves the attention because it's gorgeous and perfect and I can't even speak because of how wonderful this is.

_Finally._

It’s been a really _really_ long day. My classes have all been hell and it’s my longest day of the week. One of the many reasons I hate Tuesdays. All I want to do right now is collapse in bed and watch some shitty Netflix show with a bag of chips.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and juggle the books in my arms so I can dig into my pocket for it.

**From: Reiner Braun**  
 _I would not come back to the room if I were you._

Fucking great. Perfect. What a way to top off this fucking day.

Here, pause. Let’s have a recap for a moment.

Hello, Jean Kirschstein here. No, not like the pants. The French way. Got it? Too bad. I’m a first year engineering student at Trost University and a hot piece of ass, if I do say so myself. It’s only been two months and the classes are kicking my ass. I don’t know what possessed me to decide that engineering is what I wanted to do with my life, but I’m halfway decent at it and I enjoy it.

Oh, Reiner Braun? He’s my roommate. Big, blond, hunky jock, and hella gay. And taken, which is why he’s advising me from going back to our room. His boyfriend, Bertholdt, is a tall and nervous theater guy. I’ve actually only met him a couple times because usually if he’s with Reiner, I’m decidedly _not_.

And that’s pretty much it. Okay, resume, play, whatever.

I shoot Reiner a reply.

**To: Reiner Braun**  
 _Don’t get anything on any of my shit._

Well, seeing as my bed has just become a non option, I change course and head for the campus coffee shop. At least I have my computer with me, I can get some homework done. This time of day the place is pretty packed, but I manage to find a seat at an empty table way in the corner. I see a few sort of familiar faces, and this one guy that seems to manage to be in here every time I am, but I pay them no mind as I pull my computer from my bag and pull up the assignment.

Approximately two hours later, I’m yanking at my hair trying to figure out this one problem. I’ve been working on it for the last fifteen minutes and I’m at my wit’s end. I’ve had no word from Reiner yet that the room is safe to return to. Jesus, they can take forever sometimes. I wish they had just roomed together, but, like me, Reiner is a bit of an expert of last minute applications so the only thing left was to pick rooms that were already half full. So he got stuck with me and Bert had to room elsewhere.

Now that it’s considerably later in the day, the shop has cleared out. Now only a couple groups of students and that one guy are left. Avoiding the problem from hell, I people watch a bit. First, I focus on one of the groups, but it’s just a bunch of gossiping girls who are way too into the student government. Boring. The other group is a bit more interesting to listen to, sounds like one of them is dealing with a nasty breakup. But they don’t stay very long.

That leaves the guy. He’s seriously here almost every time I come, and I’m here an unfortunate amount of time. I think the place could be funded solely on my coffee purchases. And with this guy, I’ll call him Freckles, helping out, they can’t possibly be doing poorly with business. Freckles has his head bowed and is concentrating intensely on whatever he’s working on. Looks like it’s history or something equally boring. He keeps flipping through his massive textbook then _handwriting_ in a notebook. So he’s either taking excessive notes or writing a paper. It’s making me tired just to watch.

He’s not an engineering student. Our major is so small that we’re all in classes together. Still, he must have a somewhat similar schedule to mine to manage to come to this shop at the same times as me. Or he, too, has an aggressively sexual roommate who kicks him out of him room on a regular basis. He looks oddly familiar, actually. More than the fact that I see him here all the time. Maybe he’s just got one of those faces, but the freckles and his perfect center part in his hair are pretty distinctive.

My phone vibrating loudly on the table knocks me out of my thoughts and Freckles glances over to me. He smiles briefly but quickly returns to his work. Weird. Whatever. I unlock my phone.

**From: Reiner Braun**  
 _Bertl and I are going out to dinner. I’ll be back late._

Fucking finally. I heave a heavy sigh, which attracts Freckles’ attention for a moment again. He quickly looks away, though, and I go about packing up. I might have scared him off with my permanent scowl. Oops. Oh well. Awful dorm room mattress here I come.

\--

The pillow hitting my head hard wakes me up at the asscrack of dawn. Well, not exactly. More like nine, well after the sun has risen.

“C’mon, Jean. Get up. You do not want to miss this class.” Reiner’s voice is far too loud for this early in the morning.

“What th’fuck, dude? ‘M tryin’ t’sleep.” I wave my hand around uselessly, trying to fend off any further pillow attacks.

“We have class in twenty minutes.”

I attempt to burrow further into my blanket, “M’not going.”

Unfortunately, Reiner is not taking any of my shit this morning and is also considerably stronger than I am. He rips the blanket off me, causing me to curl up in an attempt to maintain some warmth. “Oh yes you are. Trust me, you’ll thank me later. Get dressed.” He punctuates the command with another thwack with the pillow and then leaves me alone.

I spend about thirty seconds attempting to fall back asleep, but I know it’s useless. I’m up now and Reiner threw my blanket across the room. Finally, I peel my eyes open and unfurl myself to stretch. I don’t even bother getting dressed, I just throw on an acceptably clean shirt and call it a day. It won’t be the first time I go to class in pajamas. The joys of college.

By the time I have my bag together, Reiner is standing at the door waiting. We’ve got just over five minutes to make it to class, but I’ve done it in less. About halfway there, I speak up, “Why are you so set on me coming to class today, anyway? It’s just calculus. I can do this shit in my sleep. Hell, I _have_ done this shit in my sleep.”

Reiner, walking slightly ahead of me, glances over his shoulder with a huge smile that means he knows something I don’t, “If I told you, it would spoil the fun. But believe me, you’ll be glad you came.”

I grumble a bit, mumbling about why he gets to know about whatever it is but I don’t. I need coffee. The least he could have done is get me coffee before he forced me out of bed this morning.

We make it to the classroom just before the professor and manage to get seated before she calls us out on our lack of punctuality. The room is unusually full. I didn’t even know some of these people were in this class. Not that I really show up all that much either.

“Alright, settle down.” She looks around the room with a critical gaze, “I thought some of you had dropped.” She looks down at her notes and says no more on the subject. She begins the lecture.

Don’t be fooled by my unwillingness to come to class, I actually really like Professor Rico. She’s got some crazy last name so demands we call her by her first. She’s strict, but she’s really good at getting people to understand the complexities of higher level calculus. The only reason I skip this class is because I really don’t need to go. Weird as it is, I like math. I’m good at it; numbers make sense. So usually, since I have a fundamental disbelief in morning classes, I only show up for tests. Reiner gives me the homework and turns it in for me, so there’s really no reason to show up unless I have a question.

Which is why I’ve already mentally checked out of the lecture. Instead, I start doodling lewd pictures in my notebook. At one point, I hear Reiner snort next to me. Probably at the smiling cartoon dick I just drew shaking hands with an equally silly cartoon condom.

I never claimed maturity.

About halfway through class, when most of the students are drowsy if not actually asleep, the door bangs open. Professor Rico spins around from where she is writing integrals on the board. Before she has the chance to say anything, music starts playing and several people come into the room singing and dancing. It’s something about a ‘time warp.’ Reiner is nudging me repeatedly and when I finally glance over to him he waggles his eyebrows and motions back toward the singing group of people. It isn’t until I look back that I recognise Reiner’s boyfriend acting among the students next to a petite blond. They both look pretty uncomfortable, and while that isn’t unusual for Bertholdt, I’m pretty sure it’s part of the act. I realise I actually recognise a few of them. Armin is there, along with Sasha, a girl I went to high school with. This kid Dazz who’s an engineering student is among the dancers as well.

The song gets increasingly crazy and sort of repetitive. I could probably sing along if I heard it again. Then all of a sudden everyone just falls over on the floor except for Bertholdt and the girl, who still look scared and uncomfortable. Then, one person comes in from the hall and I know that freckled face.

“Come see Trost University’s production of Rocky Horror Picture Show which runs the first two weekends of December at 7pm Thursday, Friday, and Saturday!” Then, the company stood and bowed and ran collectively from the room, leaving our entire calculus class somewhat stunned. Well, most of us. Reiner looks proud and a few others look like they knew it was coming, too.

“What the fuck?” I mutter after a few moments of silence in the classroom.

Before Reiner can lean in and say something, Professor Rico raps her knuckles against the whiteboard loudly, “Alright, we still have twenty minutes of class. Focus, please.”

\--

After class, Reiner walks with me to the coffee shop to get some much needed caffeine. “So you’re gonna go see the show, right?”

I shrug, “I don’t really have anything against musicals, but I’m not really into them either.”

“Oh, trust me, you’ll like this one. I take it you’ve never seen the movie?” I shake my head. We step in to the shop and get in line. “Then it’s settled, movie night. I’ll ask Bertl if we can do it at his room though, they’ve got a way better TV than us.”

I shrug, not really caring, and step up to the counter to order.

\--

The next night, I find myself crammed into Bertholdt’s room with Reiner staring at Bertholdt’s admittedly impressive television with Tim Curry’s face in close up on the screen. I would have found the experience more awkward, what with those two cuddling next to me, but I actually found myself absorbed in the movie. It was surprisingly good and really funny. Fucking weird, but good. Occasionally, Bertholdt would say something in response to the movie. Reiner always laughs, and I do too sometimes. I don’t really get it, though.

When the movie ends, I’m not really sure what the fuck it was about, but I am at least interested in the show. Bertholdt explains that his character is Brad, the ‘hero’ of the tale. I ask about Armin and Sasha, who he says are Riff Raff and Columbia which are the creepy butler guy and the crazy groupie chick. Makes sense I guess. He also mentions that his roommate is playing the lead, Dr. Frank-N-Furter.

I stay for a little after the movie is over, chatting with Reiner and Bert, which he’s insisted I call him. But when they start getting closer and Reiner looks at me with this pleading glance, I excuse myself. I certainly don’t want to be around when they get going. I feel a vague sympathy for Bert’s roommate, who could probably walk in on them anytime.

The walk back to my room is quiet and dark and blissfully short. When I unlock the door, I don’t even bother turning on the light. I just collapse into my bed and grab my laptop to pull up Netflix.

About halfway through an episode of Orange is the New Black, someone knocks at the door.

“It’s open,” I call, halfheartedly. I don’t even know if that’s true, can’t remember if I bothered locking it when I came in. The door cracks open and someone sticks their head in, but in the dark I can’t really make them out. “Light’s on the wall, can’t see shit.”

Yeah, I’m a lazy sonofabitch.

An arm feels along the wall before the light flicks on and I finally see the person still half hiding behind the door. “You’re the guy from the coffee shop.”

He smiles sheepishly, “Uh, yeah.”

We stare at each other in awkward silence for several moments, “How did you know where I live?”

He opens the door a bit more and steps fully into view. One of his index fingers rubs under his nose, “Um, well. Reiner told me.”

“You know Reiner?” Huh, small world. But wait. “When did you talk to him?”

He laughs nervously, “About five minutes ago.”

I groan and shudder to think what he may have been subjected to, “You’re Bert’s roommate,” I mutter to myself then wave him into the room. He sighs gratefully and closes the door behind him.

“Thanks,” he breathes, but remains hovering by the door.

“You can come in, you know. How long do you think they’ll be?”

He shuffles further into the room and rubs the back of his neck, “Well, Reiner said that he’d be alright with me using his bed.” He looks over at me and I must look pissy or something because he quickly goes to amend, “Only if you don’t mind, of course. I don’t want to impose or anything.”

Holy shit, this is quite possibly the biggest pushover I’ve ever met, and I know Bert. “It’s fine.” I wave noncommittally toward Reiner’s bed and replace my headphones.

It only takes a few moments before his stiff awkwardness makes me pause the video again. I turn my head to where he’s sitting on the edge of Reiner’s bed and narrow my eyes. He was looking at me, but when my head turns to him he averts his eyes. “Can I help you?”

He squeaks and looks to me with wide eyes. I roll my eyes but he looks really uncomfortable. “What’s your name?”

He looks away, “Oh, uh, Marco.” He rubs his hands along his legs and looks like he wants to get up and shake my hand or something. Dork.

“Jean.”

His whole face lights up and his lips curl in a small, reserved smile, “Jean,” he says quietly, testing the name on his tongue. He says it surprisingly well, getting the pronunciation almost right. I allow my scowl to soften and unplug my headphones from the computer.

“Have you ever seen Orange is the New Black?” He shakes his head. I smirk and back out to the episode select so we can start at the beginning.

Four episodes later, we’re both in stitches from laughing and it’s two in the morning. I turn to him, sitting next to me in my bed for lack of a better place to sit. “Do you have class tomorrow?” I ask as the fifth episode is loading.

“No, but I have rehearsal.”

“Oh yeah, Bert said you were the lead. Congrats, or whatever.”

He leans over and bumps my shoulder, “Thanks. Are you going to come see it?”

I arch an eyebrow and side eye him, “Are you going to be dressed in lingerie and heels?”

He scrunches up his nose and smiles with his tongue between his teeth, “Four inches. And fishnets. The costume department is having way too much fun.”

“Oh man, I bet. Yeah, I’ll be there, if for no other reason than to see you all in underwear. I think Reiner was going to drag me along anyway.” The next episode starts so I hit the spacebar to pause it. “It’s pretty late, wanna head to bed?”

Before he can answer, he yawns, effectively answering the question. He smiles sheepishly and nods, scooting down off my bed. “Yeah, probably a good idea.”

I close my laptop and maneuver myself so I’m laying down. I hear him chuckle as I struggle to get under the covers and shoot him a death glare. His hand covers his mouth but he doesn’t do much of a job of stifling the giggling.

“Shut the fuck up and go to sleep, freckles.”

“Freckles?” he asks from behind his hand.

I feel my cheeks warm and I yank the blankets over my head, “Yeah, you have a fuck ton of them. Go to sleep.”

I hear him stifle more laughing as he shuffles himself into Reiner’s bed. Then it goes silent but for the soft sound of our breathing. Just as I’m about to drift off, and long after I thought Marco had, he whispers, “Goodnight, Jean.”

I feel a smile pull at my lips, “Goodnight, Marco.”

\--

The blaring of an alarm clock is something no college student with no Friday classes should ever have to hear on a Friday morning. Unfortunately, we can’t all be so fortunate. At first, I’m not sure where the infernal sound is coming from, as I know it isn’t mine. Reiner doesn’t have class Fridays either.

As I roll over, I realise something isn’t right. The form in Reiner’s bed I can barely see through bleary, sleep-filled eyes is smaller than it should be. And brunet. Oh wait.

Marco.

I groan loudly and chuck one of my pillows at the huddled pile of blankets. It groans and curls into an even tighter ball. “Marco, get your ass out of bed and turn that thing off!”

He makes a sound akin to what I imagine a deep sea monster like a kraken or Cthulhu or something would make. Then a hand shoots out and flaps blindly around toward the bedside table. After several long moments of suffering the screaming of the alarm and the dull thudding of his hand hitting the wood, he finally manages to make contact. The arm retracts and a few moments later the alarm stops. I heave a sigh of relief.

“Shit,” the blanket lump hisses. It’s the first time I’ve heard him swear and the sound is odd. Suddenly there’s a flurry of movement and he gets tangled in the blanket, causing him to fall off the bed when he tries to get up. The massive thunk of his body hitting the hardwood sounds painful, so, of course, I laugh. Hard. “Ow. Don’ laugh ‘t me.” The sleepy mumbling is far too familiar to me.

I continue laughing while he untangles himself and rises, hair sticking out in the most adorable bedhead ever.

Wait, what?

“What time even is it?” I ask, rubbing my eyes.

He looks at the phone still clutched in his fist, “Twelve-thirty. I have to be at the theater in a half hour.”

I raise an eyebrow, “You’re less of a morning person than I am. If you hurry, I’ll buy you coffee.”

He shoots a grateful look to me and rushes out of the room to the bathroom with his bag to change.

When he returns, I’ve pulled myself into something that resembles a functioning human being. We leave the dorm building with twenty minutes to spare and I make good on my promise. As soon as we have our drinks, he starts walking toward the theater.

“Marco, wait.” He stops and turns back to me with curiosity written across his face. “Give me your phone,” I say, holding my hand out expectantly. He quirks a brow, but does as I ask. I punch in my contact info and text myself so I have his. As I’m handing it back, I explain, “I’m sure they’ll do it again, so now you have my number.”

He smiles and pockets his phone, “Thanks, but I’m gonna be late. See ya around!” He waves before rushing off.

Not two seconds after he’s out of sight, my phone buzzes.

**From: Unsaved**  
 _You put your name in as Jean KirschFine?_

I smirk and quickly add his number as a contact to my phone.

**To: Freckles**  
 _Yup_

His reply comes rapid fire.

**From: Freckles**  
 _Then you should add me as ‘Marco Boodty’ =P_

I laugh out loud, which earns me a few irritated glances from the patrons of the shop. Before I can respond, though, my phone vibrates again.

**From: Freckles**  
 _I just got to the theater. Ttyl._

I’m more disappointed that I have any right to be, but I pocket my phone and head back to my room nonetheless. When I get there, Reiner is back. He looks up from his laptop when I walk in, “You look happy.”

I shrug, “I’m not the one who got laid last night.”

He grins, “And this morning.”

As I settle into my desk I throw one of my pencils at him, “Way more than I cared to know, asshole.”

\--

Marco and I started texting a lot after that. Anytime I’m bored in class, I’d text him. And he’d text me when he gets out of rehearsals. After a week, we escalated to gross snapchats. It became some sort of sick game to see who could send the most unattractive selfies. I’m proud to say I’m currently in the lead.

Sleepovers became fairly common occurrences when Bert and Reiner realised we didn’t hate each other after the first time. We switch it up, sometimes I’ll end up at his dorm and other times he’ll come over. I prefer when we go to his place because he has a TV with an hdmi port so we don’t have to smash together to watch things on my tiny computer screen. Though, I guess I don’t terribly mind the smashing together as much as I would have thought.

And that’s the problem. Marco is _hot_. Unreasonably so. And not only that, but he’s a genuinely good person. He holds open doors for people, offers up his leftover meal plan to students who blew it in the first month, he stops to help those in need even if he’s running late. And he tolerates me, but he doesn’t let me get away with anything. He’s patient, but if I’m being an ass, he’s not afraid to call me out on it.

And I may have developed a bit of a crush.

Something hits the back of my head, bringing me out of my head. I turn and see Reiner with a notebook in hand, the offending bludgeon, smirking with some secret knowledge, “You were thinking about him again, weren’t you?”

I frown, “Who?”

He plunks down on his bed, which means I have to turn almost completely in my chair in order to keep looking at him. “Don’t lie to me, Jean Kirschstein. You’ve been googoo eyes for Marco for weeks. I always knew you were at least a little gay. We can tell our own.”

“Shut the fuck up, Reiner.” I start to turn back around, I really need to finish this paper.

“That wasn’t a denial. When are you going to ask him out?”

I sigh heavily and turn back to him, “I don’t even know if he’s into guys. And he’s got plenty of other things to worry about, anyway.”

Reiner’s face falls a bit, “He is too good for you. You know you could just ask.”

“Oh, yeah, I’ll just go up to him, ‘hey, Marco. I think you’re hot and was hoping you were into dick.’” I scoff loudly.

He smirks, “Well that’s one way, but I meant you could just ask _me_. Or Bertl, you know, his _roommate_. Save you a lot of moping.”

I blink. I honestly hadn’t thought of that. I just figured I’d just give up and try to just be his friend. “You’re letting me sit here and make a fool of myself and you _know_?”

“Watching you make a fool of yourself is my greatest joy in life. And yes.”

“Yes, what?”

His smile widens, “He’s into guys. Or at least one guy. So what are you going to do now?”

“I- wait, what? He’s into _one_ guy? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means… It means what it means. So what are you going to do about it?”

I turn back to my computer, to the glow of the electronic page open on it. “Right now, I need to finish this paper.” I hear Reiner shift, but he doesn’t respond, so I sink back into my bubble of this stupid English paper.

Five minutes later, my concentration is interrupted again, but this time by the vibration of my phone.

**From: Freckles**  
 _Hey :) coffee?_

I must stare at the message for a long time because Reiner comes up behind me and pokes me. The sudden contact makes me jump and whip my head around, “What?”

He cocks one of his eyebrows then glances at my phone, “You gonna answer that, or you just gonna stare at it?” I hold up a choice finger. “Anyway, I’m going over to Bertl’s, and it’d be really cool if you and loverboy stay here tonight.”

I turn back to my phone and hold up a hand in farewell, “Yeah, yeah. I’m going to go see him now anyway. Don’t keep the neighbours up.”

He laughs suggestively as the door closes behind him. I shut my computer more forcefully than absolutely necessary as I tap out a response with one hand.

**To: Freckles**  
 _Sure. Ten minutes. You wanna come back here or should I bring my computer?_

As per usual, his reply is nearly instantaneous.

**From: Freckles**  
 _Your place, please :)_

God, Marco and his smilies. He’s adorable. And I’m a sap. I run my hand through my hair and grab my jacket.

Marco is waiting outside the coffee shop when I show up.

“You could have gone in. It’s cold out here,” I mutter, holding the door for him and avoiding making eye contact.

“I don’t mind. How’s your paper coming?” There he goes, being all considerate and remembering I had a paper to work on. And now I feel bad for complaining about it.

“Almost done, just wrapping it up.”

He flashes me a brilliant smile and it nearly melts me right there. It’s unfair for someone to be so perfect. “I can help, if you want. What’s it on?” See? Perfect.

“A book I only kind of read. Don’t worry about it, I really am nearly finished. It’ll take me like fifteen minutes, I can do it when we get back.”

We make it to the front of the line and Marco buys my coffee, despite my protests. We walk back to my room holding the warm cups close while we chat and I try to pretend I’m not staring at the way he has these three freckles that make a little triangle in front of his left ear.

“This weekend starts tech and dress rehearsals then we go straight into the show. Do you have tickets yet?” he asks as we make it into my room.

I shrug, “Reiner’s in charge of tickets. I think he said he wanted to go closing night though.”

Marco sits himself on my bed and smiles up at me. I hover a distance away, suddenly feeling very awkward. It’s not like this is any different from any other time he’s stayed over. But now I’m particularly aware of him. The way the mattress dips under his weight, the creases at the corners of his eyes when he smiles like that, the pattern of freckles dotting his cheeks and how they’re slightly faded in the light of the room, the way his shirt hangs just right on his frame to show off his biceps that make me just want to run my hands up his arms.

My pocket vibrating makes me jump and a small surprised sound escapes my lips. Marco cocks his head at me and I avoid his gaze as I dig through my pocket with my free hand.

**From: Reiner Braun**  
 _I’ll understand if my bed remains unused ;)_

Goddamnit. I feel my face heat up and I’m sure it’s bright red. One of the many curses of having pasty as hell skin.

“Jean?”

My eyes snap up from my phone and meet Marco’s concerned gaze. He won’t even make fun of me, he’s just worried. “It’s nothing. Just Reiner being an ass.”

The concern melts and he smiles again, “Are you going to stand there all night, or are we gonna watch something?”

“I- I have to finish this paper. You can pull something up on the xbox if you want.” I sink into my desk chair and leave him to is. I feel his eyes on me but then I hear him move toward the little television and go through the pile of games.

It takes me more like forty-five minutes to finish my paper, but once finished I email it to my professor and turn around. Marco is playing Call of Duty surprisingly well. After he makes a particularly difficult kill, I break the silence, “Remind me never to challenge you in a first person shooter.”

He hits pause and meets my eye and smiles, “I have three younger brothers, I’ve had some practice.”

“That’s for sure, looks like you’d kick my ass.”

He smirks, “So I take it you don’t want to play?”

I glance at the screen, “Nah. It’s your turn to pick something to watch.”

I grab my laptop off my desk and set up on the bed, pulling up netflix. He comes over and joins me, taking the computer from me and scrolling through. Then he looks at me with a conspiratory grin. “What?” He doesn’t answer, but clicks one of the titles before I have a chance to see what it is, then sets the laptop down in front of us before bringing his arms around his knees and resting his chin, looking adorable and excited. “What did I just get myself into?”

“You’re gonna love this, promise.”

I squint at him for another moment, but then the movie starts and I’m dragged into poodle skirts, greasers, and high school in the 1950s. Occasionally, Marco hums along with the music, even if a girl is singing. He all out sings the closing number and I can’t say I mind too much, he’s got a great voice and him adding his own silliness and impressions makes me laugh even harder.

“That was an awful moral message,” I tell him when the credits roll.

“It’s a classic! And you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy John Travolta.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it! But the movie basically is telling girls that to get the guy you have to change who you are, dress in revealing clothes, and take up smoking. Not the best thing to be telling people.”

Marco does that thing where he catches his tongue between his teeth and grins and I have to physically stop myself from leaning in to kiss it away. “I think the point is more about finding yourself and following your heart.”

I make a disgusted sound and make a show of shoving my finger down my throat. He bumps his shoulder into me playfully. “But really, it was a great movie. I’m starting to see the appeal of all these musicals and shit.”

He smiles and I again have to resist the urge to tackle him down and cover him in kisses. “Glad I could take you on the journey. But I should get going, it’s getting late.”

“Oh yeah, about that. I don’t think you’re gonna want to go back.” I offer sympathy in a twisted smile but his eyes just sparkle.

“That’s fine, as long as you don’t mind, I’m fine with staying here.”

I lean over and bump into his shoulder, the contact sends fire down my arm. “I thought we were passed all that. You’re always welcome here.”

He smiles gratefully as he slides down off the bed. I loathe the absence of his heat but at the same time am relieved now I can breathe again. It is simultaneously the easiest and hardest thing to be close to Marco. It gives me a tingle deep in my stomach and makes my voice catch in my throat. It makes my heart pound and cheeks heat. I can’t focus around him and it’s the best feeling.

I need to go to sleep.

\--

We get the first snow with December and I see very little of Marco and a lot more of Reiner. With the show wrapping up and the actors knee deep in tech and dress rehearsals, Bert and Marco have been more than a little occupied. We still text as much as we can, but since he can’t text during rehearsals and pretty much all of his other time is spent either in class or studying, it’s pretty infrequent.

On opening night, I get a snapchat of his foot in his ridiculous heels. There isn’t much to the picture, and no caption, but I almost take a screenshot anyway. Then I remember it tells you when someone does that and I don’t want to be weird.

On the second night, I get one of the audience right before they start the show. The little theater is _packed_. It makes me really proud of him.

As the first weekend comes to a close I get a shot of Bert in his underwear. That one I do screenshot so I can show Reiner later. I also congratulate him by taking him, as well as Reiner and Bert, to the local diner when the show ends at midnight for greasy breakfast food. He smiles so much and hums music from the show all night. He and Bert talk about mishaps from each night and laugh at inside jokes from rehearsals. They look like they’re having so much fun and I’m content just to watch the way Marco’s face lights up.

You would think that the week between the shows would be calmer for the actors, but such is not the case. They still have rehearsals and fine tuning of the show the whole week. I think Marco has even less time than he did before the show opened.

When the second Thursday rolls around, I start getting snapchats again. The first is of the set. Without the stage lights on it, it doesn’t look like much. Just and industrial kind of look with some stairs up the center. But I’m sure it’ll look better with the lights on.

Friday I get a snapchat of the guys dressing room. Armin is leaning into the mirror, applying makeup and his hair is all matted down with gel or something. Bert is holding a hand out to try to stop the picture from being taken. A few other people are hanging around and Sasha is sitting on the counter. I send him a reply saying I thought it was supposed to be the _guys_ dressing room. He sends me back one of Sasha with her middle finger up and a caption saying there is no personal space in theater.

On Saturday, I’m sitting about five rows back, right in the center, next to Reiner. The curtains are drawn, so we can’t see the set. My phone buzzes a few minutes before the lights go down and I find a snapchat from Marco. This one is his face, all done up in the ridiculous makeup, with a smirk totally unlike himself. He’s in character. The caption simply reads ‘showtime.’

Then the lights go down and I silence my phone and shove it back in my pocket.

The show is phenomenal. I’m completely absorbed into the performances. I didn’t know we had so many talented people here at Trost University. It’s not like this school is particularly known for it’s theater program or anything. But it’s incredible. Bert is the perfect example of the hero, freaked out by all the weird shit, concerned for his lady, worried about the car breaking down. The girl playing next to him is the picture of innocence.

And then Marco appears at the top of the stairs.

His entrance is just like in the movie, and he looks incredible. He’s got great legs and they’re bared for the world to see, well the audience at least. And under fishnet stockings. If I was on stage with all the ‘party goers’ from right before he came on stage, I wouldn’t even need to act to look worshippingly up at him. That’s probably about how I’m watching him from my seat.

Then he makes eye contact with me.

I don’t know much about theater and musicals and all that. I mean, I know a lot more since I started hanging out with Marco, but I still don’t know all that much. But I do know it’s usually not common to break the fourth wall. Even in this show, which does that constantly. It’s still only the narrator that does it. But when Marco looks out at me, it’s like he has eyes for no one else. And it makes me melt in my seat.

It’s a good thing I’d seen the movie before this, because I couldn’t tell you what the show was about otherwise. I mean I still kinda can’t, it’s weird and doesn’t make much sense. But I spend way too much time staring at the way Marco’s ass looks than I do paying attention to the story. And based on the way Reiner goes stiff when Bert is stripped down to underwear, he does much the same.

And then the show is over. The actors bow, they disappear backstage, and the lights come up. And I can’t move. I feel like Drake in that Nicki Minaj video. It isn’t until much of the audience has filed out and the rest are hanging around for the actors to come out that I finally remember how to move.

Bert comes out first, and Reiner presents him with a big bouquet and a kiss. It makes me kind of envious, but then I remember what I have planned and I smile. And my heart picks up and I rub my hands over my knees.

Then Marco comes out. He’s gotten most of the makeup off, but he’s still wearing the corset. He has put on a pair of black sweats though and changed his shoes to something I assume is much more comfortable. He scans the room quickly and his whole face lights up when he finds me still sitting in my seat. He jogs over and climbs through the seats, avoiding people trying to congratulate him. “Jean! Hey!”

I can’t keep the smile off my face. He looks so beautiful. When he makes it over to me I reveal the bouquet of carnations I had hidden under my chair and stand to hand them to him. “You were great.”

He takes the flowers and puts his face in them to smell them. “Thank you, you didn’t have to get me anything.” He looks up at me and probably catches how my eyes are looking anywhere but him and I’m shuffling my feet nervously and my fists are clenched at my sides. “Jean? What’s wrong?”

“I- uh,” my eyes find Reiner, who’s watching me with an eyebrow raised and an arm around Bert’s waist. Bert’s giving me a reassuring smile. My eyes finally settle on Marco, who has that genuinely concerned frown which wrinkles his forehead and hides some of his freckles. “I just wanted to- uh-” My mouth isn’t working right and I’m making a fool of myself. I step forward and take a deep breath, “Marco, you’re great, like really great. And I, uh,” another deep breath and I look back into his eyes, “Will you go out with me?”

Then he starts laughing. A giggle that grows into a guffaw. And as much as I love the sound, it’s making me really really nervous. My eyes widen in panic and I glance over Marco’s shoulder to Reiner and Bert only to see them as wide eyed as I am. I hear his laughter subside and I look back to him. He holds his free hand over his chest, “I’m sorry. It’s just, I’m standing here in women’s lingerie. And you choose _now_ to ask me out?”

He’s still stifling giggles and I’m still confused, “Yes?”

He takes a deep breath and calms down, “Jean.” He traps my eyes in his gaze and I don’t want to be anywhere else. He takes a step toward me, leaving only inches between us. “I’ve been waiting for weeks for you to say something. Of course I’ll go out with you.”

“Before you sa- wait, what?” Marco’s smiling at me, “You will?” He nods. “Wait, you’ve been waiting? Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shakes his head in amusement before closing the remaining distance between us. His lips are soft and gentle. My eyes slide closed as I lean into the kiss. He licks at the seam of my lips and I open greedily as I raise a hand up to his head and run my fingers through his hair. It’s a bit damp with sweat, but just as soft as I’d imagined. His tongue meets mine and he tastes of cinnamon and vanilla.

The wolf whistle catches both of us off guard and we jump apart, a string of saliva still connecting us. Our heads whip around to see Reiner grinning and a few other spectators watching on in amazement. Then the applause starts.

Marco’s laughter is contagious and before long we’re both laughing full out and his hand finds mine and I can’t find a single thing wrong with the evening.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to reformat this like six times because I'm awful. Anyway, I hope that's what you wanted!


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